Golden Sun: Rise of the Fallen
by Deltra 307
Summary: We're all that's left of the great clans. They came in the night and by dawn, my clan was no more. We are survivors. We are runaways. We are the fallen.


**You guys had better be grateful! With this new chapter, I grant you five pages and over 2,000 words. Again, be grateful! I actually made this story by accident but I instantly fell in love with the idea, so... I know I only have one chapter of the first Golden Sun series and I didn't plan writing this story so it's not on my profile thingy, but don't eat me! If you're wondering what profile thing I'm talking about, go look. Now. Then come back and read. Well, I'm hoping for a story with one hundred reviews! I'm sure that I can have that many. Hopefully.**

**Well, enjoy!**

**Prologue**

The white tom closed his eyes slowly and took a deep breath. This wasn't good; not good at all. There she was, only fox lengths away. The love of his life, the one he'd been waiting for seasons on end. And there she was, telling him the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear. He opened his eyes again and looked over his light, gray-brown mate. He hoped he'd find some sign that would show him that she was lying or joking. Much to his dismay, there was not. Her face was solemn as she spoke once more.

"What do you plan to do?"

He sighed and sat down, squinting in the harsh sunlight. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I really don't know."

"You _have_ to know," she hissed. There was a hint of snarl in her voice. "This concerns our future. And the future of our..."

"Our kit, I know. But I can't just up and leave. Those cats need me. And you can't leave your clan, either."

"Those thieves might need you, but who needs you more? Those blood thirsty beasts who've threatened my clan ever since you brought them together or your new family?"

"I never wanted it to be this way."

"We all _want_ things, but that doesn't make them come true. You can't just push this aside like you do everything else. Our daughter's life is at stake!"

"I know, I know. Quit your bickering."

"My bickering? This is serious!" she growled, a hint of claw in her tone. "If you don't make up your mind, then I'll... I'll..."

"You'll what?"

"I'll make sure you never see your precious daughter again!"

"Are you saying you'll kill her?" he said, staring at her with amusement glittering in his eyes. "Please, I know you better than that. You couldn't harm a fly."

"No, but she'll grow up with me in my clan like every other cat-learning to despise rouges. And If you don't think I won't go through with this, you don't know me that well."

"Can't we talk about this later? I swear I can hear them calling for me."

The she-cat swiped at his ear, claws unsheathed. Blood splattered across the ground and the white tom stared at her in disbelief. "I knew you wouldn't listen," she muttered, turning around. "I don't know why I even bothered coming here. You're nothing more than a silly rouge like the rest of your group." Pain filled her mew as she went on. "Good-bye, Frost, and good luck."

With that, she got to her paws and began to walk away, their kit hanging in her jaw mewing helplessly.

"Wait!" Frost called, racing after her. When he got close to her, she turned and glared at him with so much hatred and scorn that it was hard to believe she loved him, if she loved him at all anymore. He stopped and let her go, watching as she disappeared over the horizon.

He clawed the ground. He never asked for this. He just wanted to be with her and now his stupid band of loners had taken her away from him. He gritted his teeth at the thought. They'd taken the one thing he'd loved most in this world away from him. He was ashamed to call him their leader.

In fact, he didn't even want to be their leader right now. What had he done to deserve this? Nothing! Why didn't he believe her when she warned him...?

He whipped around, rage burning up inside him. The tom broke into a run and dashed through the undergrowth that soon faded into an open landscape. His claws ripped through the grass as he made his way towards their makeshift camp.

If was when he saw a flash of golden fur that he skidded to a halt. The tabby tom was sniffing the ground as though following a trail. His tail was straight as an arrow and, not far away, a good amount of fresh-kill was piled up.

Frost couldn't help but smile in amusement when a bird flew down, pecked the prey once or twice before fluttering away. The black pawed tom looked back towards the new tom who was bunching up his muscles preparing to leap at the mouse that scuttled tail lengths away.

"If you leave your prey out like this, someone's going to steal it," he said, his voice a bit harsh.

The mouse, alerted by his call, ran away leaving the golden tabby to turn and glare at him. When he realized who had spoken, though, he straightened up. "G-good morning, Frost."

The larger tom simply narrowed his eyes a little. "Why don't you take this back to camp."

"Why? I'm not done hunting yet."

"And who told you when to get back?"

"Well, no one..."

"Then why do you insist on hunting more?"

"Because I thought you'd be... angry with me..."

Frost snorted. "I'll be angry with you if you don't hurry up and get back to camp."

"Y-yes sir!" He ran over to his pile of fresh-kill and picked as many up as he could. "Can you help me?" he asked, his mew muffled by the fur of his catch.

"Why don't you order someone else to?"

"I'm not their leader-they'd never take orders from me."

"You're not leader, eh?" A though popped into his mind. He wasn't proud of it, but he _had_ to win back over his mate-well, former mate. "Then you are now."

The tom looked astonished. "Me? Leader? Now that would be great if it were true."

"It is. I want you to take over."

"I can't lead those cats! Have you seen me? I'm weak compared to them! Besides, if I became leader, what would happen to you?"

"Then show them you're not weak."

"How would I do that?" he growled. "I told you already, I can't compare to them."

"How did I gain their loyalty?"

"Through... uh..."

"Fear," he answered for him. "And how did I spread fear?"

"You-"

"I killed the one cat who opposed me. It's as simple as that."

"But I haven't ever killed anyone! What am I supposed to do I can't show them I'm strong? I can't be their leader, only you. And you never answered my question. Where will you go if I take over?"

"That's... none of your concern. Go. Take your prey and _leave_. If you're not fit to be leader then are you fit to be in the group at all?"

"But-"

"If you want to stay, you'll do what I tell you. It's my last order as your leader. Remember how I lead and maybe one day you'll be great as well."

With that, the large tom turned and began to walk away once more. Where would he go from there? If he never heard from the loners he'd gathered again, he'd be as content as a cat could be. But he couldn't be with his mate either-her clan would never accept him into their ranks.

"Wait!" he heard the tabby call as he tried to catch up with his former leader.

"Thorn!" he yelled, baring his teeth. "Go back to camp before I make you go back with shredded ears!"

"But-"

"_Now!_"

Thorn stepped back once or twice before turning and running back to the camp.

_It's for the best_, Frost tried to tell himself. _You don't belong there anymore..._

Seasons had passed since the birth of Frost's kit. Thorn had taken over the band of rouges that used to belong to him and the white tom's envy grew every day. It was only shortly after his mates death that he'd been captured by twolegs. He was a wild cat, not a kittypet. Every day he found it harder and hardly to live with the mouse brained fools who towered over him on two legs.

He tried to rip off the yellow band that was strapped around his neck once more but the collar would not budge. Instead, the bell began to jingle and the twoleg kits swarmed around him.

He let out a menacing hiss but the kits paid no attention. Instead, they picked him up and pressed his white pelt against them. He struggled to get out of their grasp, but their grip was too tight. He found himself suffocating as they squeezed his neck.

After digging his claws into the kit's pelt, he managed to break free from her grasp. The twoleg let out a yowl, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. The others glared at him but he didn't care. If he stayed there any longer, he'd lose his mind.

He managed to squeeze through an open window nearby and felt so happy to have real grass beneath his paws. It felt so soft compared to the rough ground in the twoleg nest... He wanted to lay there forever.

But he had work to do.

He leapt up onto the fence that surrounded the yard of the nest and scanned the area. He'd make his escape-oh yes-but he had to plan out his coarse of actions. If he made one mistake, he could be lost in the maze that was the twoleg place.

"Look at the little kittypet! Such weaklings!"

A taunting voice sounded from behind Frost and he turned to look at who'd spoken.

"Who are you?" he asked, a hint of growl in his voice.

"Who are we? Who are _you_?"

The amber eyed tom narrowed his eyes. If he told this cats-loners by the looks of it-that he was the former leader of the most feared group in the forest, they'd think he was crazy. Perhaps he could go by his kittypet name.

"Socks."

The loners looked at one another before bursting out laughing. "What kind of stupid name is that?"

Frost's true name didn't sound very menacing, but they we right about the name the twolegs had given him. Socks was a terrible names but he was ashamed to tell his true identity. _A fake name might do the trick..._

"You want to know my real name?"

"I bet it's not much better then Socks," one of them said and the three burst out laughing once more.

"Blood. My name is Blood. I'm the most feared cat in all of the twoleg place-in fact, I practically own it."

"I doubt it. No kittypet can be strong," one hissed.

"Prove it to us," another pressed. "I want to see how bad your fighting skills are."

Without hesitation, Frost leapt from the post, his abnormally long claws outstretched. He felt the familiar thrill of battle as he racked his claws down the back of one of the unsuspecting loners. It was as though after moons and moons of being half dead he was finally, truly alive.

The cats tried to attack but were easily batted away. By the time the three of them were panting and struggling to stand up from exhaustion, he only had a scratch or two.

"W-who are you...?" one stuttered, wincing as he set his paw on the ground. "I've never seen a kittypet, none the less a loner fight like that..."

"I already told you. I am Blood."

"Let's get out of here. Should we report to Thorn?"

One of the other swatted at his ear. "Do you want him to find out that we got beaten by a _kittypet_?" The one who'd spoken before shook his head and the three dashed away from where the black and white tom sat.

He simply licked his paw hoping to rid it of some of the blood. If his housefolk found out he'd been in a fight and trekking blood across the nest there'd be no end to the yelling.

_So they were part of my gang, eh?_ He thought. _I wonder what Thorn's done with the place. I hope those wimps aren't the best they have to offer otherwise they'll bring shame to their very names._ Once he'd break out of the twoleg place, he planned to go on and take his place as leader once more.

Now that his mate was dead and his kit... Well, he didn't even know his child's name. How would he react to seeing her for the first time.

His world seemed to spin around him and, for the first time in his life, he was uncertain of what lay ahead.


End file.
